The benefit of mistakes
by severinas.96
Summary: Slowly, dreading what he would see, Dean opened the tag on the suitcase that was supposed to be his: Dr. Castiel Novak, Monroe Street 47, Pennsylvania. "Fuck." - Dean picks up the wrong suitcase at the airport and only realizes once he's home.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **Slowly, dreading what he would see, Dean opened the tag on the suitcase that was supposed to be his: Dr. Castiel Novak, Monroe Street 47, Pennsylvania. "Fuck." - Dean picks up the wrong suitcase at the airport and only realizes once he's home.

**Disclaimer:** As usual, characters are not my own. Just borrowing them and gonna return them safe and sound once I'm done. Idea not mine either this time, but more on that at the end of the chapter.

On with the show!

* * *

Dean hated flying. But, unlucky for him, it was still the easiest and fastest way to travel, so he'd sucked it up, swallowed a few pills and tried to sleep through the whole trip.  
But it hadn't worked this time.  
He had been awake for all of it, turbulences and everything. His knuckles still ached from the hours spent anxiously gripping his seat's arm-rests.

And, to top it all off, his luggage was late. He had been waiting in front of the baggage claim for almost an hour now, staring blankly at the conveyor as it continued to spit out sweet fuck all. People around him were getting nervous too, tapping their feet and muttering in sharp tones, although there was really nothing anyone could do but continue waiting.

Time dragged on; the sun had long since sunk behind the terminal buildings on the horizon when the cases finally appeared. With the luck he'd had today, Dean expected his to be one of the last cases to appear, but by some miracle he found himself thanking a God he didn't believe in as he spotted it rounding the bend of the carousel first in line. He snatched up the handle and hurried off— it was late and the only thing he wanted right now was to get home, flop down on his bed and sleep for at least a week. Maybe two.

He switched the Impala's ignition and slumped forward in the driver's seat, forehead pressed against the wheel; sucked in the first deep breath he'd taken since he'd set foot on that plane. He let the sound of the engine's purring surround him as he sat there for a minute or two, breathing in the comforting smell of leather and motor oil. His baby had always been able to do wonders for his nerves. Before long the two of them were eating up tarmac, and the ride home was over sooner than he expected.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Dean rummaged around for his door key, managing to miss the lock twice once he'd found it. Finally inside, he dumped everything in a heap on the bedroom floor and peeled off his clothes in record time. Flying always left him itching to shower and brush his teeth, to scrub off the lethargic unease that would cling to his skin long after his feet had hit solid ground. Clad in only a towel, he came back out of the bathroom to fetch his toothbrush; it's still packed, of course, idiot. He lifted his case onto the bed, put in the lock's combination and… nothing.

The case wouldn't open.

He checked the combination again, shook the case a bit. No dice.  
Dean frowned. Why won't it open?  
It was then that he saw the tag on the case. It was blue. His tag wasn't blue. His had been brown. He was sure of it.  
Slowly, dreading what he would see, he opened the tag.

Dr. Castiel Novak  
Monroe Street 47  
Pennsylvania

"Fuck."

* * *

So, here we go. Another story. I am definitly starting too many at once, but oh well. I was too exited about this one to stop, so here it goes.

Huge thanks to Hanna (her tumblr here, go check her out she's awesome!) to whom I owe the story idea and the honour of having her as a beta (or more of a co-writer at this point) to this story. Thanks again!

Hope you liked it, more is on the way if you're interested. Tell me what you thought pretty pretty please? It would make my day.

Well, enough rambling. See ya!


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Dean decided to inspect the case closer. More awake now and concentrated he did find some differences to his case. This one was slightly smaller than his, the colour was not exactly the same and it had side pockets that his case did not have.

It was easy to mistake this case with his, and especially while being too tired and stressed he hadn't thought to look twice. The question now was: Where was his case?

His first idea was to call the airport, but he probably would have to wait in line and maybe they didn't even have his case anymore.

Maybe that Dr. Castiel Novak mistook Dean's case for his just as Dean had done. Maybe it was easier to just call Novak, because he would have to do that eventually to give him his case back.

So Dean went back to the suitcase and opened the tag again. There, on the other side, was a phone number. He hesitated only a second before typing in the number on his cell phone and holding it to his ear.

It rang. Once. Twice. Then someone picked up.

"Hello?"

The gravelly voice surprised Dean. He had expected a different voice, even though he couldn't completely point out how different. Just – not like that.

"Hello?" the voice repeated.

"Eh, yeah, sorry. Hello." Dean stuttered. What was wrong with him?

"Who are you?" asked the voice.

Dean shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts again.

"My name is Dean Winchester. You are Dr. Castiel Novak, right?"

There was a beat of silence, then:

"How do you know that?"

"I have your case!" Dean hurried to explain. "I mistook your case for mine yesterday at the airport, they are quite similar."

There was another seconds of silence, then the voice was back.

"Yes, you are right. The case that I have is not mine. It is probably yours."

Dean huffed in relieve.

"Yeah, I hoped that you would have it." As the other man didn't answer, Dean continued. "You think that we could, eh, meet or something? To exchange the cases, of course."

"Of course" Novak repeated. "Yes, that would be a good idea. Would Friday at 7pm in front of Dino's diner be all right for you?"

Very direct. "Yes, sure, Friday 7, Dino's."

"Agreed. Have a nice day."

And the line went dead.

Dean stared at the phone for a few minutes before he shook his head and put the phone down again.

He had expected something different. Something completely different.

Dr. Castiel Novak did not seem like the typical person who would travel with a leather case as the one that he had. And he did not talk like a doctor either. Maybe he wasn't a medical doctor, Dean thought.

He had sounded educated, but his manner of speaking had been somewhat peculiar. The more he learned of this man, the more curious he got.

It wouldn't hurt if he took one quick peek…?

No, that was no right. It wasn't his case and just because it was standing there now he wouldn't look. He had some respect for privacy, and he hoped that that Novak guy would have the same.

But maybe he didn't? Maybe he was that kind of guy that was just so weird that he didn't follow or care about any rules society had. Maybe he would be curious too and he would peek into the case.

Maybe.

On the other hand, a guy with a leather bag like this one wouldn't be someone like that, would he? Or would be he a hippy?

If Dean could just open the case, just a teeny tiny bit, just a few inches and just for a second, maybe then he would know better, then he could know more about the guy, maybe…

Dean couldn't withhold his curiosity any longer. With a few fast steps he was beside the suitcase again and had the zipper of one of the side pockets in his fingers. He hesitated for a few seconds and then opened it in one fast motion.

A notebook. Probably his agenda. Or maybe his personal notes.

It felt too intimate to open it, so Dean (satisfied) himself with observing it from the outside. It looked quite old, so it had to be important. So not an agenda, but rather a diary of some sorts. But then again it could not be too important, because he had kept it in the outside pockets where it could fall out of the case or be stolen easily.

The notebook had quite a number of marks on it, meaning that it had been stuffed somewhere with other objects. The pages were also slightly yellow, supporting his theory that the book was old.

Conclusion: the notebook was old and important to Novak, but seemed not to contain very important information.

Dean felt like Sherlock Holmes analysing Novak's belongings, but he was curious about this guy.

He sat back and studied the case again. It looked quite new, there were only a few scratch marks on it, and you couldn't travel by plane without getting those on your suitcase. The case didn't look expensive, but not too cheap either. The leather was well cared for, (meaning) that either the case was new or just well cared for. The fact that Novak had put a tag with name and address on it pointed towards well cared for. Or just an experienced traveller.

Dean sat back, happy with himself. He had gathered quite some information about the Novak guy. But he wasn't (satisfied) yet, he wanted to know more.

He went to the bathroom to take a shower and on his way to the kitchen he stopped again in front of the case. Just a quick peek wouldn't hurt anybody, would it?

Even if he didn't know the combination for the lock, he could squeeze the case apart a bit and cast a quick glace inside.

And so he did.

A blue button down shirt, a pair of ties and some socks. Nothing special. A bit disappointed Dean closed the case again and went back to making himself breakfast.

It was Thursday, so in an hour he had to be at work. He gulped down his breakfast as fast as he could, and rushed out of the house to get to his car.

SPN

Stuck at the office, he couldn't get the suitcase out of his mind... What was in it? Who would that Castiel guy be? What was he going to be like once they met?

He couldn't properly concentrate on work, his mind kept going back to the mystery he had at home. And on one occasion, when it was just so bad that he couldn't focus anymore on anything, he decided that he would open the notebook once he returned home.

That decided, his mind agreed to return to work stuff.

And as he was on his way home again he noticed that he hadn't thought about Dr. Castiel Novak the rest of the day. But now the excitement was back. He wanted to open the case, and he wanted to open it now.

He parked the car, hurried over to the door, rushed to get his keys into the lock and threw the door open. His first destination was the suitcase. He opened the side pocket and took out the notebook. He hesitated one more moment, it seemed like a too big intrusion in that life that wasn't his. But then curiosity took over and he opened the notebook.

_Property of Castiel Novak_

So the notebook was from a time that he hadn't been a doctor. Or he just didn't want to emphasize that point too much.

He turned to the next page.

Four random numbers

_3947 _

Dean didn't know what to make of that. Four numbers. With no apparent connection to anything. What where they doing there? Why would someone write four random numbers on the first page of his notebook?

Unless they were not random. Unless they were important. Unless they were important and had to be easily reachable. Unless they were the combination for the lock on the suitcase.

Dean closed the notebook again and sat back on his bed.

Why not try it?

He did so, entering slowly the numbers into the lock. Then he tried to open the suitcase.

And it clicked open.

Slowly, as if he was opening a treasure box, he lifted the lid of the case.

There were the shirts he had already seen from outside, together with the socks and the ties.

But then, besides that, there were also a number of books. Dean took one of them in his hand.

Shakespeare. King Lear.

He could have guessed that. The Castiel Novak he had talked to on the phone seemed to be interested in literature and stuff.

Dean had read Rome and Juliet in class when he was younger, but he hadn't liked it. Mainly because of the cliché plot. I mean couldn't the guy come up with something more interesting?

He laid the book to the side and took the next one.

The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared

Weird contrast in book choice.

He laid the book also to the side and continued his inspection of the case. There were a few letters, but opening them would be definitely going too far.

But beneath the letters was a card.

_Happy 30__th__ birthday!_ It said. So it was this guy's birthday! Or it had been. And he was thirty. Only three years older than him. He would have never guessed that. He had sounded so much older on the phone.

In the case there was only his toilet bag left, containing basic stuff and shaving cream. So no beard.

And then, at the bottom of the suitcase, Dean found a paint brush.

Astonished, he took it into his hand and turned it from one side to the other. What was Dr. Castiel Novak doing with a paint brush in his suitcase?

* * *

Hi there! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

I know I am terribly late with this, and I have no excuses... I am so sorry...

Anyone still interested in this?

Please leave a review to tell me what you thought, it would mean the world to me. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Dean couldn't sleep properly that night. He didn't really know why, but he was nervous to see Dr. Castiel Novak. Well, not really nervous, just curious. Really curious.

And maybe he was even scared a little bit. Scared that he might turn out to be this really boring guy and that he might be deceived by what he was expecting. Or that they would meet, exchange cases and never see each other again. Because for some reason that was not what Dean wanted.

Dean sighed and opened the book that was still lying on his bedside table. King Lear.

Novak seemed to have liked it, because it looked worn. Dean didn't think that it would be any good, but he had to get his mind away from tomorrow so he opened the book and started reading.

Falling back on the bed Dean closed the book again. He had read through it like nothing, and it was the first time that something like this had happened to him. But it hadn't been bad. Not bad at all.

Now he was even more looking forward to meeting Novak. On one side he wanted to confirm his theories – he couldn't be a proper Sherlock Holmes without getting his theories right – but there was also something else that he couldn't fully put his finger on.

That lead to his brain running crazy and him not being able to sleep at all. Great, tomorrow he would have dark circles under his eyes and Novak would think God knows what and Dean would make a totally wrong impression on him and why again was it important what a random guy thought about him?

Dean shook his head. He didn't know what was happening to him. He had never acted like this before, he didn't even know this guy!

But there he was, picturing every possible outcome for the meeting tomorrow and preparing funny punch-lines to impress that Novak guy.

Dean turned to his side forcefully, trying to shut his brain up.

But maybe Novak was a totally serious guy and he would only stare at him if he tried to be funny.

"Ugh!"

He looked at his alarm clock. 3am. And tomorrow he had to get up at 7 again. 4 hours sleep. Way too few.

Dean resorted to his last idea. Humming softly he started singing:

"Livin' easy

Lovin' free

Season ticket on a one way ride

Askin' nothin'

Leave me be

Takin' everythin' in my stride

Don't need reason

Don't need rhyme

Ain't nothin' I'd rather do

Goin' down

Party time

My friends are gonna be there too

I'm on the highway to hell

On the highway to hell

Highway to hell

I'm on the highway to hell..."

SPN

Dean was woken the next morning by the persistent beeping of his alarm clock. At first he tried to turn it off sluggishly, while pulling the blanket around him to keep the heat inside. Then he saw the date on the clock.

Friday.

Today was Friday.

With one jump he was sitting upright in his bed.

He was going to meet Dr. Castiel Novak today.

SPN

That morning Dean was late for work. He had been perfectly in time until he realised that he would have to take the suitcase with him to work because he wouldn't have time to go back to his house and grab it before he had to meet with Novak.

The problem was that he had emptied the case the night before and all its content was spread on his bed. Dean couldn't remember by the (love of him) how the things had been stacked in the case. And it just wouldn't close.

He tried to rearrange the books, stack them together with the socks but nothing helped.

Then he shook his head. Of course it couldn't fit.

He removed everything again, repacked, and left the notebook outside. Now everything fit. Then he put the notebook in the side pocket where it had originally been.

Relieved he went to work.

SPN

He reached the office in a hurry. His co-workers stared at him. Dean Winchester was never late. And he never came into the office flushed. But they shrugged their shoulders and continued with their daily work. Maybe Dean was coming down with something.

The whole day went by in a rush. It seemed to Dean that his gaze was magically attracted to the suitcase under his (office desk), and every time he looked at it his heart made a jump. But Dean wasn't sure what exactly it was that he wanted. Yes, he wanted to finally meet this guy, but he didn't want to be disappointed by how (what) he turned out to be.

Judging by the amount of happy birthday cards and letters he had received he seemed to be a popular guy with a lot of friends. Why would he be interested in Dean?

He seemed like an organised guy, and organised guys didn't just go about and talk to strangers they didn't even know. They did their business and that was it.

But then again the Castiel Novak Dean had talked to did not seem like a business guy. Not at all, for that matter.

Dean couldn't stand it any longer. He had to look. He crouched down under his desk and opened the side pocket of the case, taking out the notebook.

He started to emerge again from under the table to explore the notebook further and stared at the pair of shoes in front of his face.

Looking up, he saw Charlie looking down to him.

"What are you doing down there, Dean?"

"Fuck" he said and bolted upright.

But he had forgotten that he still was under the table, so he banged his head right against the table top.

Rubbing his head he straightened up, carefully this time, averting the evil edge of the desk. Sitting in his chair again, he suddenly noticed that he didn't have the notebook anymore. He had to have dropped it when Charlie surprised him. But before he could look for it he heard Charlie say:

"What's this, Dean?" As Dean looked over to her he saw to his horror that she had the notebook in hand. "That doesn't seem like it's yours, does it?"

"Eh… No?" Dean answered.

"What, no witty answer? What's wrong with you? Are you ill or something?"

But instead of giving Dean a chance to answer Charlie flipped through the notebook. A photograph fell out and Charlie barely caught it.

"Oh, who's she? She doesn't look bad at all!" Charlie commented.

Dean took the photograph out of her hand and looked at it.

"No, she really doesn't…" he said. And in fact, the woman on the picture did look really good. A pinch of envy rose in his stomach, although Dean did really not have any right to feel that way about a women he didn't even know. To Charlie's questioning glance he continued: "I have no idea who that is, it's not my notebook."

Charlie laughed.

"And I was wondering if you were suddenly interested in girls again" she said and winked at him.

Dean laughed nervously.

"No" he answered. "Not at all."

Charlie tapped her foot impatiently on the floor and as Dean didn't continue talking she took a chair from the table beside Dean and pulled towards her, sat down and stared at Dean.

"Well?"

Dean looked hesitatingly at Charlie, and then started talking.

Once he started everything came rushing out of his mouth: how it had come to this situation, how he had called Novak and they had agreed to meet, how he had opened his suitcase and now kind of regretted this because it was absolutely not his and Novak might notice and get really furious and who knew, maybe the guy was a lawyer and he would be in real trouble now? But then again he still had Sammy who also was a tough ass lawyer and probably could get him out of everything. And what was that paint brush doing in Novak's suitcase? He had been too curious not to open the case, I mean how could he not be? But still, it didn't feel right anymore and he wished he could un-do it before he had to look Novak in the eye. And maybe he wouldn't even do that? Who knew?

Charlie sat through all the monologue not making any faces. She knew Dean for a long time now and she was used to this kind of rambling. Either Dean only made sarcastic comments or he poured all his heart out. Sort of like Charlie. So they got along well.

As Dean had finished and was sitting gloomily on his chair, head in his hands, Charlie moved her chair to sit beside Dean and patted him on the shoulder.

"You're a great guy and Novak is going to notice. If he has any interest in your side of the team, then he will take an interest in you."

Dean stopped short. He hadn't ever thought about Novak this way. Not in _that_ way. But now that Charlie had brought it up he saw what she must have seen on his face.

Charlie seemed to have read Dean's thoughts because she burst out laughing.

"Come on, don't tell me you've never seen it that way!" She said. But then she saw Dean's expression and she faltered. "You seriously didn't?" Dean didn't answer. "Wow. Sorry then, didn't mean to be rude."

But Dean shook his head.

"No, you weren't. At all. I just… didn't realise?" It was more of a question than a statement, but now that Dean had spelled it out he was sure. "Yeah, I think that's it."

Charlie looked at him with sisterly love.

"You were always a cute one" she said out of the blue.

Dean just stared at her, but before he could answer there was a cough behind him. He spun around and looked up to one of his bosses glaring at him.

"Dean, I need that report till 5. Will you have it?"

Dean rose out of his chair.

"Eh, yeah, sure I will."

"Good" he said and walked away again, not without a last backwards reproaching glance.

Dean huffed out a sigh. He turned around to tell Charlie that he had to do some work now, but the woman was already gone and the notebook was lying open on his desk, and on the open page was a row of numbers.

_New phone_

_375937593_

SPN

Then, finally, 6pm came by and he had to leave to be on time for the meeting. His heart was pounding in his chest. What would it be like? Would his assumptions be true? Maybe Novak wasn't interested in him at all and they parted after the first minutes again. What if he screwed it all up? What if his expectations were too high? What if…?

Dean (forced) his thoughts to stop. This was not leading anywhere. He would just go to the diner, meet Castiel Novak…

Wait.

Dean froze in mid step, making the person behind him bump right into him. Excusing himself he forced his legs to continue walking.

How would he recognise Novak? He had never seen the guy and Novak had never seen him. The diner was probably filled with people at this time of the day. How would they find each other?

Dean slowed his pace, hesitating. What if Novak didn't show up? What if he decided to keep the case? Was this really a good idea? Maybe they should have tried to organise everything over the airport and just left the suitcases there. Maybe that would have been easier. Maybe he made a mistake.

But he was already close to the agreed location, so he could at least go and take a look. That wouldn't hurt anybody, and if Novak turned out to be a douche he could just go again.

There it was.

Dino's diner.

As Dean had suspected, it was filled with people. He made his way to the entrance, heart racing. How should he find Novak in this crowd?

But then his worry was brushed away in one second.

He had been stupid, forgetting the one important detail. Of course he would find Novak, even in the biggest crowd of people. Because he had one thing that Dean could recognise, one thing that was very unlikely that other people had.

His suitcase.

And there it was. His suitcase, in front of the diner.

Dean walked slower, being about 10 feet from the case.

He lifted his eyes and followed the feet upwards that were standing beside his suitcase. Black shoes and dark trousers. A beige trench coat and a blue button down shirt.

And then Dean looked all the way up.

Two sets of blue eyes were staring at him.

"Dean Winchester?"

* * *

Hey there!

Thanks for the follows and lovely reviews! I apreciate each and every one of them.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please tell me what you thought, it would mean the world to me.

I know, I'm kinda late, but stuff got in the way. I got a head start on this story now, so I'll try to upload on a regular basis, let's say once a week, more or less. See you then!


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was staring at the man in front of him. He had found him. And it had been so much easier than he would have thought.

In one second every single thought of hesitation and insecurity was gone, and it just felt… right.

"Yeah, that's me" Dean answered and smiled.

The guy – Novak – smiled back at him.

"Nice to meet you, Dean Winchester."

Dean's smile widened.

"Nice meeting you, Dr. Castiel Novak." He said in a lightly sarcastic tone.

Novak tilted his head, his eyes never leaving Dean.

"No one actually calls me doctor. It's just Cas…" but before he could continue someone bumped into him from behind.

Dean grinned even more.

"Well okay then,_Cas_" he said.

Novak furrowed his brow.

"No, that was not what I meant." He said.

Dean nodded.

"I know, but it kinda fits you. _Cas_." He said in a light tone as if tasting the name on his tongue. Then his grin faltered slightly. "Unless we're not there yet. I can call you Mr. Novak if you prefer that. Or any other thing, for that matter."

This time it was Novak's turn to smile sheepishly.

"No, I agree that we should call each other on first name basis. The circumstances allow it, _Dean_."

Dean grinned again, then motioned with his hand towards the diner.

"Do you want to, eh, eat something? I mean, now that we're here and all…"

Cas blushed slightly and Dean was just starting to take back his proposal when Cas finally looked up.

"I would love to" he said, took Dean's case from the ground and carried it into the diner.

Dean followed him and silently thanked all the Gods above for answering his prayers.

They sat themselves at the first table they could find, squeezing themselves between all the other people that had decided to grab something to eat that day.

Dean took the menu in his hand, but couldn't really concentrate on what he was trying to read. He was sitting opposite of a cute guy who seemed to be interested in him, or at least that was what he thought. But he wasn't going to ponder about that now, he would just try and enjoy a nice meal with a nice guy and think about all that that implied later.

"What are you going to get?" that gravelly voice shook him out of his thoughts. Dean could marvel with that voice. It was so deep and smooth but rough on the other hand, he could perfectly imagine Cas giving orders to someone, perfectly expecting them to be obeyed without questioning, but it was at the same time a voice that could lull a baby into sleep by simply talking or even singing. That man probably could sing like an angel and Dean would love to…

"Dean?"

Dean came back into the reality with a startle, realising too late that there had been a question somewhere in that deep gravelly voice that made him shiver and wish that…

"Eh yes. Yes. I don't know. Yet." Dean stammered, trying to recollect his thoughts. "Anything you could recommend?"

As Dean looked up from his menu again, he noticed that Cas was watching him with a humorous smile in his eyes. He lost himself in those eyes for a minute, so crystal clear and of an intensive blue that he hadn't ever seen before. It seemed as if his eyes were the doorway to his soul, as the metaphor went.

Dean shook his head. He wasn't that cliché normally.

That seemed to have gotten Cas out of his thoughts too, as he blurred out:

"Burgers." Then he stopped, glimpsed down at the menu again and repeated. "Yeah, the burgers are good here."

Dean nodded vigorously.

"I like burgers. I mean, being on the road so much doesn't leave me any time to eat something more _healthy_ as Sam would say, and besides, that stuff's just rabbit food, and we're not rabbits, we're carnivores and we need some meat. It's really a nice change that for once I don't have to explain myself for wanting to eat…" his eyes roamed up and met with Castiel's, who was smiling. "I'm rambling, right?" Dean said, eyes returning to the table. "I'll just take one of those, then."

SPN

The food came without Dean remembering to having ordered something. But Cas had been right: the burgers were delicious.

His mouth full of the tasty mass of meat and bread and just a bit of green healthy stuff, Dean hmm'd loudly.

Then his eyes flew open. But instead of meeting Cas' disgusted gaze as he had been expecting to, he saw the man watching him with an understanding smile.

Dean blushed and returned his eyes to his plate. Even after his first bite it was already covered in food bits that had fallen out of his burger. His eyes went to Cas' plate which was perfectly clean, even though he had ordered a burger himself too. He shook his head. How did he do that?

"What?"

Dean's eyes went up to Cas' and he noticed that the man was staring at him.

He tried to think of something witty to answer, but nothing. His mind was blank of the usual jokes or punch lines.

"How did you do that?" he asked, before the silence got too long.

"Do what?" Cas asked, tilting his head in that cute manner that made Dean loose his thread of thoughts.

"Eh… Not being messy. I mean, not spreading your whole burger on your plate but keeping it between the bread."

"Ah. Anna said that that was one of my few gifts."

And there it was again. The girl.

Dean started to choke on the piece of burger he was trying to swallow and had to cough a few times to get it loose again.

Cas watched him with weary eyes.

"You okay?"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Typical thing to ask for a doctor, huh?" He said, trying to avert the topic.

Cas frowned, then he started laughing.

Dean faltered, then blushed. Had he said something stupid? Why was Novak laughing?

"Apologies" said Cas as he saw Dean's confused face. "I'm not laughing because of you, well in a way I am, it's just: I'm no doctor. No medical doctor, anyways."

Dean's face lightened again.

"Ah! So a professor then, huh?" he asked.

"I have my doctor in literature, yes."

"I thought that it had to be something like that, because who else reads Shakespeare? And I mean, if you'd been a doctor you would have had some kind of supplies in your suitca…"

Suddenly, Dean realised what he was saying. His heart stopped and for a moment he thought everything was over. Novak would realise what he had done, get really angry, storm off and they would never see each other again because Dean had screwed up. Again.

But then he looked up at Novak and saw his expression. Cas was smiling. He was not just smiling but he was outright laughing at him.

No, wait, not at him. Not really, or so it seemed. Dean noticed that the corner of his mouth were starting to pull up too.

"So you couldn't resist either."

His face froze again.

Cas had looked too. Cas had opened his suitcase too.

A quirky smile formed on his lips.

"So, what did you make of me?"

Now Cas' smile faltered, but then he said:

"Let's play a game. We take turns guessing something about the others life, but we both have to say the truth."

Dean nodded eagerly.

"Agreed. But what's the price?"

Cas thought about that for a moment, but then he had an idea.

"If the fact is the truth, we have to say something more about it. If it's not, then there won't be any explanations about it, it shall be a secret for ever."

"Yeah, ok. Good. You start."

"Ok. You have a dog." Cas said without hesitating.

Dean faltered.

"Oh wow, ok, yes, yes I do. How did you know?"

Cas smiled.

"There were dog hairs on your clothes."

Dean huffed out a laugh.

"So," Cas continued, "what's his name?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"His name is Goofy." He cast a glance out of the corner of his eye towards Cas and as he saw him laughing he explained. "It wasn't my idea, it was Lily's idea. Lily is the daughter of my brother Sammy. Lily's favourite show was Goofy and the first thing she said as she saw the dog was "Goofy!" so the name kinda stuck."

"So the picture of the two women and the man are…"

But Dean interrupted him.

"No no no, now it's my turn." Cas closed his mouth reluctantly but then looked at Dean expectantly. "You're thirty years old."

A sheepish grin spread on Cas' face, then he made it disappear again and said:

"No."

Dean faltered. He furrowed his brow.

"What?" he asked.

"No." Cas just repeated. "I am not thirty years old."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, then reopened them again.

"But…"

But Cas interrupted him.

"We said no explanations."

Dean sulked but then decided to come back to it later again.

"Whatever. Your turn."

Cas smiled and said knowingly:

"You travel a lot."

Dean pouted but had to admit to it.

"Yeah, yes I do." Cas continued staring at him, expecting more information. "I work in the export section of my firm. We sell cars and car pieces to basically all of the world, mostly to Canada and Mexico. So yeah, I travel a lot to coordinate everything and try to please everyone."

"So that's why you have a gun?" asked Cas.

But Dean shook his head mischievously.

"My turn again" he said. "

"You're an organized kind of guy" he just stated.

Cas nodded hesitantly.

"Yes, that might be true."

"Might?" Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows. "You have a name tag on your suitcase, you put your name in your notebook, you write down your suitcase combination… I guess that organized people do." Then he faltered. "Unless that your wife did that."

Cas smiled.

"No, no wife" he answered.

"Then who's that girl on the picture in your notebook?" asked Dean.

Cas' smile lightened and reached his eyes.

"My sister, Ana." He simply said.

"You've got other sisters, or brothers for that matter?"

Cas chuckled.

"Six to be exact: Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer, Raphael, Anna, Balthazar." At Dean's gaping expression he assured him: "Don't worry, I am not expecting you to memorize them."

Dean nodded, but on the inside he could be screaming right now. Cas didn't expect him to memorize them. He expected to having to remind Dean of the names. And that meant that he expected to see Dean again.

But then again, maybe he was just overreacting. Maybe he just said it without deeper meaning. Maybe Dean was imagining things now. Maybe…

"But I would advise you not to bring your gun when you meet them." Cas stated matter of fact.

Dean's head swept up. He furrowed his brow and stared at Cas.

"How…? And why would I…? What?"

Cas outright laughed at him. For a second, Dean marvelled at the sound, but then he pulled himself together.

"How did you know?" he asked.

Cas quirked his eyebrows.

"There was a gun licence in your suitcase."

Dean ducked his head. How had he not remembered that?

"So why would I shoot your brothers or sisters?" he decided to go to the next question before humiliation took him over completely. Where was his head today?

"Wait until you meet them and you will understand me fully."

There it was again. _Until_, and not _when_. Dean's heart started beating faster again and hope arose in his chest. He tried to ignore it and hide it from Cas, but he wasn't sure if those piercing blue eyes didn't just look through him and notice every little thing going on in his mind. It wouldn't surprise him at all, to be honest.

"Do you have any brothers except for Sam?"

Dean's eyes focused again on the man in front of him.

"Nah, one little annoying brother is all I can handle."

Inwardly he hit himself. Was that seriously all he could think of? He had used over time so many little brother jokes and now had to be the time that he couldn't remember a single one of them.

Preoccupied with himself, he missed the glimpse in Cas' eyes.

"Then who's that girl on the picture in your suitcase?" Cas asked.

Dean had to think for a second before he remember.

"Oh, you mean the one with Sam and Lily? Well, the other girl is Charlie. She's my best friend."

Cas seemed to relax a bit.

But then he frowned.

"Dean, how did you open my suitcase? Yours did not have a lock, but mine did. How did you guess my combination?"

Dean smiled mischievously.

"Well, it's not the best idea to write down your combination in a notebook that's also in the suitcase but not protected by the lock."

Cas grinned.

"That would be true" he agreed. "The notebook was not supposed to be in the side pocket. I forgot to take it out before checking in the suitcase. I usually never leave it there, it is really important to me and I like to keep it on me. I actually need it tonight."

Dean nodded and tried to ignore his curiosity. It was none of his business why that notebook was so important for Cas. If he had wanted to tell him, then he would have.

"The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared…" Dean tried to aver his thoughts, "that book any good?"

Cas looked surprised at first, but then he seemed to remember that the book had been in his suitcase. He smiled mischievously at Dean.

"You will have to read it for yourself to know, because I haven't read it yet. Do tell me if it is enjoyable after you have finished reading it."

"I read King Lear yesterday" Dean answered. "Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

He looked up into the smiling face of Cas. This was turning out so much better than he would have imagined. He was having fun, something that he hadn't had for a long time now. He was enjoying himself with this complete stranger that he met by chance and he liked him. And Cas seemed to like him. Or was he just imagining that?

Dean chided himself. He didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing. Maybe he was making all of this up, his brain fooling him into thinking that there was something between them. Maybe Cas didn't see all of this that way. Maybe he just had been hungry and now he would take his case and vanish forever, not wasting another thought on Dean.

Maybe.

But could his intuition really be that wrong? Shouldn't he better trust his intuition and go for it? Shouldn't he…

"Did you enjoy your burger, Dean?"

Dean startled out of his thoughts. He glanced to his plate and in fact it was empty. When had that happened? He didn't remember much about eating his burger, but now it was definitely gone.

He looked up at Cas again. Maybe that was Cas' fault.

"Yeah, it was delicious" he said and watched Cas' smile grow. "Just as my company was."

Cas actually blushed.

Dean wanted to hit himself for actually saying that out loud, but the reaction he got from Cas was worth all the embarrassment.

He looked up only to meet Cas' eyes.

"Thank you" the man mumbled in that gravy raspy voice that fascinated Dean.

Mesmerized again by those startling blue eyes Dean answered without thinking:

"You're welcome"

He bowed his head in embarrassment, staring intently at his plate and nearly missing the chuckle that came from Cas.

Startled, he looked up and really, Cas was laughing.

At first a feeling of anger surged in him. Was Cas really laughing at him? He wouldn't have thought that he would do something like this.

But then he saw the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He wasn't laughing about him, just… with him.

Dean felt his lips spread in a smile even without his approval, and after a few more seconds he was laughing together with Cas.

It felt so natural, casual and Dean didn't ever want it to stop.

But, soon enough, it did.

Cas sighed and gathered his things together.

"I gotta go" he said and laid out some dollars onto the table.

Dean's smile vanished. This was the moment of truth. Would Cas say something? Should he say something? Could he say something? What if Cas said no? What if he didn't want Dean to ask?

He felt Cas' eyes on him and slowly looked up. They stared at each other for a minute, neither Dean nor Cas saying anything.

But then Cas sighed again and turned around to leave.

Dean took all of his courage together and stood up too, calling after Cas:

"Wait a second!"

Cas turned around but only said:

"See you" and walked away.

Dean sunk back on his chair. That had been obvious.

Or had it?

He thought he had seen a mischievous glimmer in Cas' eyes. Had he imagined that?

* * *

Hey there!

Here I am again, as promised, with a new chapter. As always, hope you liked it and please leave me a review, it would mean the world to me.

I've got it all written out now and I think I'm gonna publish one chap every saturday.

So see you then!


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was still not completely composed after the "date" he had had with Novak. It had gone so much better than he would have ever expected. Everything seemed to be just right.

But he forced himself not to fall too much for that guy. He would probably never see him again.

Yes, Cas seemed to have enjoyed as much as Dean did, but that didn't mean anything. He hadn't asked for Dean's number, and that said enough for itself. But maybe that hadn't been on purpose. Maybe Cas had thought that Dean wasn't interested in continuing this.

He just didn't know what he should do. He did have Cas' phone number – he hadn't been able to resist to type it into his phone as he found it laid open in the notebook. But he doubted that he would ever have the courage to call.

Normally, he was always the one who called after a date. But this time he wasn't even sure if it had been a proper date, so he wouldn't be the one to call and make all of this awkward.

He was still sitting at the same table, staring at the chair where just a few minutes ago Cas had been sitting. He could still hear his voice in his hears, smell his cinnamon hair and feel the glare of those piercing blue eyes.

The waitresses were shooting him glances already because he was taking up a table that could otherwise be given to another customer.

So Dean sighed and forced himself to gather his things up, pay his part of the bill and stand up. He was giving the table one last look checking if he had forgotten something as his face fell on something that he hadn't expected to be there.

He froze on the spot.

There, still where Cas had put it, was the notebook.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Cas had forgotten it. He had forgotten the notebook. And he had said that he really needed it tomorrow. He had insisted that it was vital for whatever it was that he was doing in town.

Slowly Dean went back to the table and grabbed it. He weighed it in his hand for a few seconds before he made a decision.

Putting it in one of his coat pockets he walked out of the restaurant, fishing with his other hand his phone out of his pocket.

"Hey Charlie"

"Dean! How did it go?" Charlie's voice beamed out of the phone.

"Fine, good. Great really. Listen, I need your advice."

"Sure, shoot." Came her fast answer.

"Cas left his notebook and now…"

"Oh, so now it's _Cas_, interesting!" Charlie interrupted him.

"Oh come on Charlie, not now! I need your help." Dean answered, sounding exasperated.

"Sure sure, Dean. But I want to hear _every_ detail later.

"Yeah, course, whatever. Look. Cas left his notebook and he said that he really needed it. I can't just call him but he really _really _needs it. What do I do?"

"Why can't you call him? Of course you can call him! Do it! Call him! He basically _gave_ you his number."

"What? No, he did not…"

Charlie laughed.

"Do you really think he just went and _forgot _that oh so important notebook where there _happens_ to be his phone number? Oh no I don't think so."

"Wait, are you implying that he left it on _purpose_?" Dean gasped.

"Of course you silly! Now come on and call him!"

And the line went dead.

Dean stared at the phone. Did Cas really forget his notebook on purpose?

SPN

It was ringing and Dean was regretting ever even calling. What was he going to say? Everything that he prepared in his head sounded stupid and blatant and why did he call again?

He would have loved to just hang up right now, but then again that was weird too. What if Cas saw that he was calling and then just had hung up? He would think that he was a coward.

What he technically was, but Cas didn't have to know that.

So Dean kept the phone at his ear and didn't hang up. After every ring he thought that this one would be the last one and that the voice mail would go on and he would be saved and had an excuse but no, it kept ringing and ringing and ringing.

"Hello?"

Dean jumped in the air.

"Hello" he hurried to say.

"Dean? Is that you?" the voice on the other end of the line said.

"Yeah, yeah it's me." Dean answered, but then didn't know what to say.

"Did you miss me already?" asked Cas and that phrase alone made Dean's heart beat ten times faster and how was he even supposed to say anything anymore?

But somehow he managed.

"No. Eh, I mean, yes, but no… Ugh. Look. You forgot your notebook and since you said that you needed it I thought I might call you and… well, tell you that I have it."

"Thanks" Cas answered.

There was an awkward silence, and then Dean blurred out:

"You want me to bring it to you?"

"Yes" came the answer from Cas, and Dean thought that he could hear Cas smile.

"Yes?" he asked again.

"Yes" Cas repeated. Then he added: "I'm just a few blocks away from the diner, if your still around you could come."

Dean froze but then he hurried to answer:

"Eh, yeah, sure." And then after a pause: "Where exactly are you?"

SPN

As Dean got out of the bus he would have gone right back on it if the bus hadn't been gone by the time he was able to shake himself out of his shock.

His next thought was that he was in the wrong place. But he checked the street name and it was the right one.

He turned around and looked up and down the street.

What the hell was Cas doing in this place? The street was nearly empty, no people walking on either side, and the shops and bars were all closed. All in all, the street looked nothing like one a literature doctor would go to.

Slowly, Dean walked in direction that Cas had told him to go. He walked and walked and with every step he took he doubted all of this more.

This was probably a huge set up. Any moment now Cas and his friends would jump out from behind that corner and laugh at him. How could he be so stupid?

But he passed the corner and nothing happened, no one was hiding behind it. So he just kept going.

Where was Novak? Would he really be in one of these things here? Or was all of this a prank, to see if he was gullible enough to fall for it?

But Cas just didn't seem like the kind of guy who would do that! Could he be so mistaken about him?

Then he saw the sign: The Wall

Dean stood before it, indecisive. If Cas had said the truth then he would seem like a fool just standing here. But if it was a prank then he would look weird going in.

Finally, Dean gave himself a push and opened the door.

A blast of loud music made him stop right there on the doorstep. The room in front of him was filled with people, mostly around his age but also quite a bit younger.

They were all dancing or jumping or just rocking to the monotous music blasting from the speakers.

Dean looked around, but with so many people it was nearly impossible to find anyone. And with all the noise he wouldn't be able to hear anything if he tried calling Cas.

So he just sighed and made his way through the crowd to search for a quitter place. He would find Cas, eventually. And it wasn't like he had anything to do tonight.

So he went out and roamed the disco. He wasn't specially looking for Cas, he wouldn't find him like that, he was sure. No, he just went and looked around.

Squeezing between people and making his way across the dance floor he reached the bar. For a moment he hesitated to buy something, but then he shrugged his shoulders and ordered a simple beer.

Beer in hand he continued walking. The music didn't allow him to really think about anything in particular, so he just let his thoughts wander, not really noticing where they were off to.

The evening with Cas had been good. Great, even. He had really enjoyed Cas' company and he wouldn't care to repeat something like this. But he wouldn't hold too many hopes for that. He had just met the guy, and maybe he was into girls. Who knew by now?

Charlie had seemed pretty sure that there would come something out of this, but she always had been positive minded.

Maybe she was right this time. Maybe. Dean silently hoped that she was.

The people around him didn't notice him particularly, and he didn't notice them either. He was just another guy in the crowd, moving lightly with the beat of the music.

He made his way on to some steps, leading to an elevated area in the disco. The music was less audible here. A few couches and armchairs were scattered across the room, giving people a place to rest and talk.

And in one of the chairs…

"Cas" Dean said as he approached the guy. He seemed to be in a completely different place, his eyes cast into the distance and his drink forgotten in his hand.

But Dean's call seemed to get him back, as he sprang up and nearly spilled his drink. Then his glance fell on Dean and he relaxed again, falling back into the chair.

Dean furrowed his brow.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked, not without a hint of jealousy.

In his head he hit himself for feeling jealous, he had no right to do so. He had to accept if Cas had a girlfriend – or a boyfriend -, it wasn't as if he could expect anything from someone who he hadn't even known three days before.

But Cas shook his head.

"No, no one in particular." Then he shook his head, raising his eyebrows. "They keep reminding me that I should have fun."

Dean cocked his head.

"And you're not?" he asked, looking around. "Isn't this what people call fun?"

Cas made a grimace.

"Yeah, but I didn't want any of this. I told them, but they wouldn't listen."

At that moment a guy approached the pair and patted Cas on the shoulder.

"Who's this guy then?" he asked Cas and eyed Dean assessing. "An early birthday present or what?"

Dean wasn't sure because he couldn't really see it in the dimmed lights, but he thought that Cas blushed at the man's words.

"No, he is not, Carl."

The guy – Carl – raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, Cas. Whatever you say."

And with a wink towards Dean he went off.

Dean followed the guy with his eyes, then turned back around to Cas, raising his eyebrows.

Cas actually smiled a little and answered:

"Ignore him, he's being stupid."

But Dean continued to stare at Cas.

Cas furrowed his brow.

"What?" he asked.

Dean just continued to stare pointedly at Cas, but the other man didn't seem to get what he was looking at.

"What?" he asked again, looking first at himself and then behind him to try to find out what Dean was talking about. "What is it Dean?" he finally asked.

Dean shook his head.

"It's your birthday?" he finally asked.

Cas furrowed his brow again.

"Tomorrow, yes."

Dean huffed out a laugh.  
"And you didn't tell me?"

Cas looked confused.

"Is it important?"

Dean actually laughed this time.

"Come on, Cas, can't you see that that might have interested me? Heck, it's your birthday in…" he glanced at his watch "…half an hour and you didn't think to tell me? You're really one of the special kind."

Cas cocked his head, squeezing his eyes shut slightly.

"Is that a compliment?"

Dean actually reeled back at that.

"Eh…" He wasn't completely sure himself what it had been. "I… don't know?" he asked more than anything.

But that seemed to suffice for Cas. He smiled at Dean again.

In case it wasn't, you could help me paint my house next week as an apology" he said and looked Dean right in the eye.

"That's what the paint brush is for!" he shouted, before he could contain himself. Cas' stare had brought his mind to a halt again He ducked his head as he realised and looked around, but except for a few weird stares and shaking heads no one seemed to really care.

Cas smiled at him. "Sit" he half ordered.

Dean hesitated. He had just come to give Cas his notebook, he hadn't planned on staying. But on the other hand, there was nothing awaiting him tomorrow. It was Friday, tomorrow he could sleep, and there was a cute guy inviting him to stay.

How could he say no?

* * *

Hello there!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was a bit hard for me to write and I'm not as happy with it as I'd like to be but I couldn't figure out why so here it is anyway. Please do leave me a review, it would mean the world to me.

Only one more chapter to go and then we're at the end... for now :)

See you next week!


	6. Chapter 6 - Epilogue

"Did you or did you not, Dean?" Cas asked exasperated.

He had been bugging Dean for over an hour now, but the guy just wouldn't give a straight answer.

This time – had he really thought it would change anything to ask for the millionth time? – Dean didn't show any reaction either.

There was a light smile on his face and his eyes lovingly on Cas.

"Oh for God's sake." Cas threw his hands in the air and turned away. "Fine, don't answer, leave me here in _agony_ and enjoy your little power play."

Dean started laughing, but Cas just glared at him.

As Dean's laughter ebbed away he turned his eyes back to Cas. A mischievous glitter sparkled in his eyes.

"Maybe I didn't just forget the notebook on purpose? Maybe I even exchanged the suitcases on purpose?"

Cas' head snapped back.

"You did what?!"

At Cas' expression Dean burst out laughing again.

Cas rolled his eyes at him.

"Now you're just messing with me."

"Maybe?" Dean answered and grinned some more.

"Ugh." Cas burrowed his head in the cushions. "I give up, I give up."

Dean's smile turned softer and he placed his hand caringly on Cas' shoulder.

"Maybe" he repeated.

* * *

So, here we are again, after a longer break than I would have wanted to (sorry...)

This is the last chapter in this story! I hope you enjoyed this trip as much as I did writing this whole thing ;) Please do tell me what you thought about it, it would mean the world to me.

Until (maybe) next time!


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